


But Does He Eat Grass?

by TheLanternWretch



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen, Silly, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLanternWretch/pseuds/TheLanternWretch
Summary: Just what does Hecarim even -do- all day? And, does he have to take care of the horse half? Does he eat grass? Boredom leads to weird thoughts. Thresh is no different.





	But Does He Eat Grass?

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble request I did that I thought was very silly. All I got was, "A drabble where Thresh tries to see if Hecarim eats grass." And, well, I ran with it. This is pretty harmless and short but it might make someone smile. It made me snort while writing it.

He had no idea why the idea even hit him. Thresh knew damn well none of them could eat anything. None of them really had stomachs, and the very few of them who did, it didn’t work. Yet, there was still an inkling of curiosity… did Hecarim ever like… idly try to graze? The idea of him bending over and being too tall to actually reach the dead grass on the Isles was kind of funny… did he just grab handfuls and just slam them into his metal mouth? Did that thought ever even cross his mind?

Well, Thresh didn’t have anything better to do today. He knew Hecarim was somewhere out there on the island. There wasn’t a Harrowing or any sort of reason for him to be gone. The wraith knew the patrol route the centaur usually took, stuck in his routine haunting, and started tracing backwards. The trick was not to let Hecarim see him - that would be a sure fire way to blow off any sort of chance of seeing if he did such idle horse things besides whinny and snort. The jailer trudged on for what seemed like forever and just as his attention began to wander, the far off sound of rhythmic hoof beats sent a jolt of excitement through this bones. Quickly, he hurried off to the side of the path and hid behind some rubble, the light from the lantern dying down as though it were also enjoying the bout of silliness that had come over the Warden.

Intrigued empty eye sockets watched the proud sentry trot by, metallic fingers curled around his trusted glaive as he marched on, head held high. So far, no signs of stopping for a snack. He let Hecarim get so far down the road before Thresh, being as stealthy as he could, started to follow. Diving into shadows and slipping behind stuff, he stayed out of sight, trying his hardest to keep his massive frame of bone and metal quiet. Thankfully, Hecarim wasn’t exactly the quietest being, either. If anything, he was probably one of the loudest, especially with the heavy skull-crushing hooves carrying him forward.

There was one area, an open field with hunks of ruined stone foundations still littering the area, that Thresh thought maybe… Hecarim stopped and leaned his front half down low. Thresh gleefully watched, only to be horribly disappointed as the horse was not reaching for a handful of weeds like one would grab popcorn, but checking fresh tracks made by something. It must have been ruled as not threatening, because Hecarim straightened back up and continued along his usual route. 

It was a good hour into the silly game of shadowing before Hecarim finally made a noise and whipped around. “WARDEN. What the HELL are you doing?!” 

Thresh froze, nearly just behind a boulder with copious amounts of moss over the stone in a film. “I’m walking. I’m allowed to do that.”

“You’ve been walking behind me for almost a full round.”

“…. It’s not illegal, is it?” 

“No, you want something. What is it? Tell me what you need immediately so I can be rid of you,”

The jailer tried to think of what to say. He didn’t want to admit the real reason he’d been stalking the centaur. “I just wanted to admire how hard you were working, how diligent you are when you walk the perimeter of the Isles, how swiftly-”

He was interrupted by an impatient horse snort.

“… You’re not buying a single word of that, are you?”

“No, Warden, I am not.” 

“Ah, well, I’m just going to-” Thresh pointed with both hands toward the direction of his prison sheepishly.

“Yes, go crawl back to your little maze of a building and stop wasting your time and mine.”

“Right, I’ll see you around.” With an embarrassed turn, Thresh quickly made his way back to the prison.


End file.
